


I Could Really Use A Wish Right Now

by Amberly



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2715512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amberly/pseuds/Amberly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are no stars on L2, but. Maybe Duo can make a wish anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Really Use A Wish Right Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Murdered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Murdered/gifts).



> This is a short birthday fic for Miss M! There is no smut (sadly), just an angsty little fic with a fluffy ending! 
> 
> Just a quick note! I do not speak Russian, and what little Russian I include was given to me by someone who DOES speak Russian, who has assured me they are the right words. I've decided to trust them. If you find a mistake, PLEASE do let me know, so that I can correct it! 
> 
> Kotyonok- kitten  
> Kotyonok- my kitten  
> Leannan- is NOT russian, but means "love" or "lover"

L2 was bitterly cold, frost seeping into Duo’s bones and rattling his teeth .It was dark, the air stale in Duo’s lungs as he waited for the bus, late night and early morning blending together. The detached silence of a December morning rang in his ears, Duo shifting impatiently from foot to food. He checked his watch. It had been a half an hour.

Pushing impatiently away from the dilapidated shelter wall and shoving his hands under his arms, Duo grumbled to himself, trying to warm his icy fingers. There was no wind, not on a colony, thankfully, and Duo said a quick prayer of thanks, worn boots barely keeping the cold out. This late, the bus was probably not coming. He was going to have to walk the twelve blocks home in the dim artificial colony night, chilled and shivering.

“Home,” Duo scoffed, lip curling as he kicked a stray rock. Home was where you felt safe. Home was people who loved you. Not an empty, one-room flat. A chipped table and scuffed chairs. An empty bed that squeaked. There was a draft, a broken window overlooking the alley. Duo spent most nights curled around his gun, pillow hard and lumpy. The people he loved were scattered and left behind. And they didn’t have time to go looking for him.

Duo walked fast, making good time. He climbed the crumbling stairs to his third floor in silence, grateful for the small warmth of being inside. Even if inside was hollow. It held nothing, and Duo couldn’t fight against the empty gnawing in his belly in the quiet darkness of his flat. Couldn’t ignore the loneliness of his self-imposed isolation. It was harder, at night, to remind himself that this was his fault. That he didn’t deserve forgiveness.

Crossing the room, Duo shrugged off his threadbare coat, hanging it over the back of the cracked dining chair. He stepped towards the window, pressing his nose against the cold glass and looking out over the slums. Night like tonight, the years since the war felt heavy, stretching over his shoulders like a yoke. Five years later, and things were back where they’d started.

He’d been alone for two of them, lost and forgotten on the streets of his childhood. Duo was abandoned again, because he’d left and no one was going to look for him. Not after--Duo sighed. Swallowed. There were no stars on a colony. Not really. Stars were a view, a luxury the poor didn’t deserve. But there were lights, flashing intermittently in the distance, and they would do. He was tired of being alone. He needed something, some small hope that could glimmer in the darkness.

“I wish,” he started, voice dry, dusty. Duo swallowed, clearing his throat. He wished--what? That he hadn’t been stupid? That he hadn’t left? That he’d never gotten involved in the first place? It was stupid to wish, to want to go back and change that night. To change every night leading up to it. Or maybe just forgiveness. But he knew he didn't’ want to be alone anymore. Duo wet his lips. “I--”

“Those aren’t stars,” it was warm, thick and familiar behind him, the sharp Russian accent raising heat in his belly. Duo whirled, violet eyes wide with surprise. Trowa. Standing in his doorway, smirk unfurling. Watching Duo with a familiar green gaze. The taller man shut the door, stepping into Duo’s living room. He dwarfed the space, and Duo frowned.

“You are a hard man to track down,” Trowa commented.

“I’ve been here a month.”

“Yes. It took me that long to track you,” Trowa’s amusement was palpable, and Duo crossed his arms over his chest, looking stubbornly away from him.

“Maybe I didn’t want to be found,” Duo could hear Trowa move. Could hear him walking across the room, could see the broad expanse of his chest come in to view. Duo swallowed, gripping his upper arms as he stared resolutely at the soft weave of Trowa’s sweater.

“Kotyonok,” Trowa sighed, tipping Duo’s chin up, cradling his jaw in the palm of his hand.

“Don’t--” Duo started, an edge of panic in his voice. Trowa shushed him, thumb smoothing over his cheek as he leaned in. Resting their foreheads together, the Russian let out a shaky sigh.

“Kotyonok moya,” it was soft, reverent, Trowa’s lips inches from his own, and Duo reached up, fisting his hands in his sweater, breath hitching. “What do you wish for?”

“Trowa, I--” Trowa kissed him. Trowa kissed him, swallowing the tremor of fear in his voice and breathing warmth against his numb lips. Duo’s hands tightened, lips parting as Trowa’s tongue teased against them. Trowa licked into his mouth, fingers sliding to the base of his braid. And Duo was 17, waking up naked and warm and safe in the circle of Trowa’s arms. Was 17 and drunk, mouth open to the bold sweep of Trowa’s tongue. 17 and fleeing, after 5 months of bliss, the debt he owed death shackled to his heart.

“Come back to me, kotyonok,” Trowa implored, the tips of hsi fingers trailing along Duo’s jaw.

“Leannan,” Duo bit his lip, eyes fluttering shut. It had been two years. Two years of hiding how he felt, of pretending he felt nothing. Two years of trying to forget the shape of Trowa’s name on his tongue, the way it glided smooth through his lips. He’d gone colony to colony, changing names and shedding places like clothes. And Trowa had chased him, waiting for him to slip up. Trowa had forgiven him the moment he woke up to find Duo gone without a note, without a trace.

“Please,” Trowa slid his hand down Duo’s side, wrapping his arm around his waist. Duo weighed it. Two years of lonely nights, a cold bed, his heart like ash in his chest. Against one kiss, one touch from Trowa’s lips rekindling him, shooting fire through his veins. He licked his lips, nodding and opening his eyes. Maybe he was damning Trowa. Maybe he was damning them both to early deaths. But he could feel the sudden hitch of Trowa’s breath, the sudden shudder that rippled through him, and maybe, Duo thought, it was worth it.

“Yes?” he asked, soft and happy, joy lighting his eyes.

“Yes, leannan,” Duo’s smile was frail, but it bloomed. Trowa laughed, lifting him and spinning him in the tiny kitchen, and Duo grinned, clutching his shirt. “Hey! Careful, baby. You’re gonna break something.

“The only thing we’re going to break,” Trowa growled, holding Duo tightly, “Is your bed.”

Duo giggled, wrapping his legs around Trowa’s waist and carding a hand through his hair. He bent his head, met Trowa’s lips with his own, and clung. Maybe he didn’t need a wish after all. 


End file.
